Walking Wounded
by Coneflower Adams
Summary: Frodo lost more than just the Ring while on the quest. Back home, he loses someone incredibly dear to him, but gains something he didn't know he had. Set as an AU.
1. The Cotton's Front Step

**Prologue: The Cotton's Front Step**

How could he tell him? Sam's mind whirled in agony. Between their recovery from the quest and journey home to find the Shire – their home – overrun by ruffians, Sam wasn't sure his master could handle the news he had to give.

Shining as noble as a knight, Sam had galloped Bill the pony right up to the Cotton's front step. Mrs. Cotton was standing on the step with Nibs in front of her wielding a pitchfork. Rosie rushed from the house when she heard Sam's voice. Sam stared at her with shocked eyes at the sight of Rosie holding a baby. He had assumed it was hers, but it wasn't. It came as another shock to hear whom the baby belonged to, and he wiped his face on his sleeve when they told him she was dead.

"Mr. Frodo" called Sam as he came to a halt beside his master's pony.

"One moment, Sam" his master said, turning briefly to look at him then went back to trying to convince the hobbits around him not to slay the ruffians. Frodo was sick of death, and yet the stench of it followed him.

"Mr. Frodo, you need to come now" Sam persisted, laying a hand on his master's shoulder.

Frodo caught the urgent gleam in Sam's eyes, and nodded. "Lead the way."

He asked what was so important, but Sam would not tell – only wiped his eyes some more.

"Why are you taking me out here, Sam? I must be off to Bag End. Dulcie is waiting."

"No, she isn't, sir."

There was a quiver in Sam's voice that made Frodo's heart leap in his throat. "What do you mean? Samwise, tell me!" But they had arrived at the Cotton farm.

Sam rode ahead. He slid off his pony, and walked inside before Frodo could join him. He reached the front step just as Mrs. Cotton walked out the door. She was pale and very aged looking, tears ran down her cheeks. She pulled Frodo into an embrace. He looked up, stunned and confused, at Sam. "Where's Dulcie?" When no one answered, he pulled Mrs. Cotton away and demanded, "Where's my wife?"

"She's gone, cousin," a voice finally answered. It was Rosie. With tears glittering in her eyes but her voice bold, she continued, "She was killed nearly two weeks ago."


	2. In which Frodo makes a new friend

**Prologue 2: In which Frodo makes a new friend…**

_S.R. Forelithe 1398 (Frodo is 30 and Dulcie is 27)_

It was a such a lovely day, Bilbo didn't want the lad cooped up in Bag End. So, with a few seedcakes stuffed in his pockets and a thick book tucked under his arm, Frodo set off through the cool grass to his favorite reading spot under the trees near Bag End.

As he was coming upon his reading spot, he stopped short. A lass was sitting against a tree, her skirts laid out around her. It wasn't everyday that Frodo saw a lass. Only the Gamgee daughters lived closest to him. He'd never seen this lass before. Her hair was sandy brown and hung on her shoulders. Her clothes looked fancier than normal. Her face was turned away from him.

"Good day!" Frodo greeted, stepping toward her. The lass jumped, and turned to him. "Sorry to startle you, miss," he added, seeing her surprised expression.

The lass raised a hand to her heart, blushing. " 'Tis all right. I should take into consideration that folks live around here."

Frodo bestowing a friendly smile, bending down beside her. "I live down the hill that way." He pointed to the clearing in the trees where a slope lead to Bag Shot Row.

The lass cocked her head slightly. "Are you Frodo Baggins?"

"Yes," he replied, taken aback. He wondered how many folks knew of him. "I am he."

"My little cousin, Sam, has not stopped talking about you since I arrived yesterday."

"Sam Gamgee?"

The lass smiled, warmly. "Yes. The lad speaks so highly of you."

"Are you staying with the Gamgees?"

"Until the mid-year harvest is over. My father wanted me to spend time with the relatives I don't see very often, and also it appears the crop this year is abundant. The Cottons need an extra hand at the farm. I'm related to the Cottons as well."

"Oh my!" Frodo said, digesting the information. "You will be busy during your stay here."

The lass lowered her eyes to the hands in her lap. "Yes, I will, but it'll be good to learn. I've never worked on a farm before."

"So, are you a Gamgee or a Cotton?"

"Neither," the lass replied then blushed furiously. "I have not introduced myself! I'm Dulcie Goodchild." She sat up on her knees, grabbing her skirts, and half curtsying.

"Good to meet you, Miss Goodchild," Frodo said, bowing his head. "Excuse me for prodding, but why are you out here?"

Dulcie frowned. "It's so crowded at the Gamgees, and I'm not use to such a crowd. At my home, 'tis only myself and my parents."

Frodo nodded. "I can understand. It is only myself and my Uncle at Bag End, but I know how it feels to leave in a crowded place. I lived at Brandy Hall in Buckland for most of my childhood. The Hall is bursting at the seams with hobbits. Being at Bag End is much calmer."

"My mother use to tell me stories of how the Great Smials were bursting as well while she was there."

"Oh, your mother worked at the Great Smials?"

Dulcie's face went blank. "No, she lived there. My mother is a Took," she said, defensively.

At the last sentence, Frodo wanted to give himself a good slap on the cheek. He had assumed something he shouldn't have. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to offend you."

" 'Tis all right," Dulcie replied, understandably. "I'm familiar with a response like that. It's a long story, but my Took mother married my Wiseacre father. My mother was practically disowned because of it."

Frodo blinked in surprise. He had never heard this story before, but knew it could be true. "I have Took blood in me as well, so we must be related somewhere down the line."

Dulcie smiled. "We must be." She glanced up, watching the leaves on the branches sway. "I really should be getting back. Only Daisy knows where I am." She went to stand, but Frodo got to his feet first and held out a hand to her. "Thank you, Mr. Baggins," she said, as he pulled her up.

"Please call me Frodo."

Dulcie nodded, smoothing out her skirts. "All right, Frodo. And please call me Dulcie. I hope to see you again."

"I'm sure we'll see each other much during your stay."


	3. In which Frodo finds new hope…

**Chapter 1: In which Frodo finds new hope…**

His knees buckled. Frodo would have collapsed to the ground if Sam hadn't been there to catch him. His eyes were dry, but he shook in Sam's arms and the sickening feeling of being back in Mordor crossed Sam's mind. Rosie appeared beside them, her hand resting on Frodo's forehead.

"Please understand, cousin," Rosie said, speaking softly. "There's something you need to know." When Frodo didn't respond, Rosie glanced up at Sam in dismay. He shook his head, and gave her a look of 'leave him be'.

It took time, but they finally led Frodo inside the Cottons' home. Mrs. Cotton brought a cup of water, but Sam waved it away. "Mr. Frodo," he started, grasping his master's hands in his. "I need you to listen. Dulcie isn't all the way gone. A piece of her is still here?"

"What do you mean?" Frodo asked barely audible, his eyes holding glazed over in horror.

"Dulcie had a baby - your daughter."

"But-"

"She found herself carrying six weeks after you left," Rosie interrupted. "She was worried that something happened to you in the Old Forest, but Dulcie always believed you'd come home." Rosie raised her head to look at Sam. "As I did."

Frodo clutched at his chest, breathing rapidly. "She had a baby?"

"Yes," Rosie answered, smoothing back the curls on his forehead. "The baby is named after your mother. Dulcie thought you'd be pleased by it. We call her Primmie, for short. She's a beautiful little lass."

"Where is she?"

"Sleeping in Rose's bedroom," Mrs. Cotton interjected, hesitantly. "Would you like to see her?"

Frodo nodded, and pushed himself off chair Sam had set him on. Sam went to grab his master's arm, but Frodo pushed him away. He followed Mrs. Cotton to the first bedroom on the left. The door was open, and a lamp was burning on a table. A small crib sat against the all near the door. Mrs. Cotton peered into the crib, gently laying a hand on the sleeping babe's back.

"She's such a sweet lass, our little Primmie. Just like her mother, she is-" she looked up, giving Frodo a warm smile, "and her father. Do you wish to be alone with her?"

"Yes," Frodo said, gravely. He cleared his throat and repeated, "Yes. Please."

Mrs. Cotton swept from the room, lightly shutting the door. Frodo stood rooted to his spot. All he could see was a blanket in the crib. He inched closer, a tiny pink face coming into view. He stared at the perfect, round face scrunched up in sleep. He tentatively leaned over the crib, and ran a feather-light finger across the babe's cheek.

The little wisps of curls on her head were a sandy brown color. _Just like Dulcie's_ - Frodo mused, his first clear thought since he rode up to the Cotton's farm. 

Just like Dulcie's…

* * *

"Good day!" Frodo called cheerfully, as he strolled to the tree Dulcie was leaning against.

Dulcie jumped to her feet, curtsying. "Good day to you as well!"

Frodo bowed his head then asked curiously, "Why aren't you at the Cotton's today?"

"I stayed home with Daisy to take care of chores around the smial," she answered then blushed. "I told Daisy I needed some time alone, and the dear lass waved me out the door. I feel awful for leaving her to take care of things."

"I'm sure she'll be fine for an hour." Frodo dipped into his pockets and pulled out an awkward object wrapped in a napkin. He unwrapped it, and held it out to Dulcie. "Seedcake? I always bring some along when I come here."

Dulcie smiled, shyly tucking a curl behind her ear. Frodo felt a warmth in his chest at the action, and hoped he wasn't blushing. "Thank you," she said, taking one then lightly sat back down on the ground. She took a bite. "It's really good. Who made it?"

"My Uncle Bilbo," Frodo answered, proudly. He seated himself in front of her. "He can bake the best treats."

"I haven't met Mr. Bilbo yet."

"Well, you'll have to come over and introduce yourself." When Dulcie looked intimidated by the idea, Frodo added, "I'll introduce you, if that is all right."

Dulcie nodded. "That would be lovely. What book is that?" she asked, spotting the blue-covered book with golden letters in Frodo's hand.

"Oh!" He raised the book up. "Stories about the Elves of the 1st Age. Have you ever heard of Elves?"

"I have, but not much. Will you read me some?"

A brilliant smile broke on Frodo's face. "You really would like to hear a tale?"

Dulcie stared at him for a moment then nodded. "If you don't mind."

"Not at all!" Frodo flipped open the book, searching for a certain story. "I've never met a lass - or really anyone besides Sam - who was interested in hearing tales of the Elves."

Dulcie giggled at his excitement. "I like tales. I don't get to hear them often, so it really is a pleasure."

"You'll enjoy this one." Frodo went on to read of Feanor and the Silmarils. Dulcie listened intently, idly twirling a lock of hair in her finger. Frodo glanced over the book at her, and paused at the sight. It was odd how a simple action could make a frog jump into your throat.

"Frodo?" Dulcie called, and he shook himself out of his reverie.

"Sorry. Lost my place," he said, covering for his pause. The image of Dulcie's fingers in her curls did not leave him for the rest of the day.

* * *

Frodo gently placed a hand on his daughter's downy head. He couldn't remember what came over him, but he realized suddenly that the babe was in his arms. He slowly stepped to the rocking chair in the corner, and sat down.

"Primmie," he murmured, and sighed feeling this was more a dream than real. He and Dulcie weren't sure if they wanted children, but knew if it happened, they'd love the child with all their might. When Dulcie never became pregnant, they knew having children wasn't meant to be.

Frodo wondered if this was some kind of cruel punishment for his decision to keep the Ring. _Dulcie was alive when I was standing at the cracks of Mount Doom. Now she's dead. _A painful stab shot through his heart, and without knowing, he clutched the babe tighter to his chest.

Just then, the door flung open and Rosie rushed inside. "Frodo, what are you doing?" she asked, worried


End file.
